


look to the stars

by BookRockShooter



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - The X-Files, FBI Agent Keith, FBI Agent Lance, Klancemonth2018, M/M, The X-Files - Freeform, lance and keith but they're fbi agents, lance is the skeptical one and keith thinks aliens are responsible for everything lmao, s1ep1 of the x-files but it's vld, they're basically scully and mulder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-20 13:43:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16138451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookRockShooter/pseuds/BookRockShooter
Summary: Skeptical Agent Lance McClain is made to work an X-Files case with Agent Keith Kogane, known conspiracy theorist. It goes better than he would have ever expected.--The X-Files, but Klance





	look to the stars

**Author's Note:**

> _Literally_ what are titles I'm-
> 
> Okay so I've been wanting to do something for klancemonth2018 all month, but I could never actually write something out until this week when I thought "oh my god klance but x-files hell yeah-" and this happened ksjdsjdsk (also ik this is technically being posted like two days late but oh well-)
> 
> It's basically a re-write of the pilot ep of The X-Files with some added scenes and diff dialogue bc I have v little creativity oof haha (and a few of the characters' names were changed to vld characters if I could make it work but not all of them lmao rip)
> 
> I just love the x-files and klance so much that ofc I had to put them together lmao, I hope I did a good job?;;
> 
> also this is mostly unedited so if there are any mistakes,, Forgive Me
> 
> Anyway! Yeah happy klancemonth2018 and I hope y'all like this fic! Lemme know what y'all think if you want, and happy reading! c:

Lance is trying his hardest to not fidget under the hard stare of Chief Iverson. He’s not used to being summoned so suddenly by the man, and he’s nervous as to why it’s happened now. He isn’t getting fired, is he? Oh god, what if he is? Lance quickly wipes his damp palm against his pant leg. _C’mon, McClain, get it together._

“We see you’ve been with us for about three years, Agent McClain, is that right?”

“Yes, sir,” Lance says, plastering on what he hopes is a confident smile. He should not feel this scared. _Everything is fine,_ he thinks to himself.

Iverson looks down at a file and flips through it. Lance’s heart rate picks up, just a little bit. “It says that you went to medical school but chose not to go into a medical-based profession. How’d you come to work for the FBI?”

Lance straightens in his seat. That’s an easy thing to answer. “Well, sir, I was recruited right after I finished my time in medical school. My, uh, my parents kinda still see it as an act of rebellion, but… I saw the FBI as a place where I could distinguish myself.” Okay. So maybe it’s just a check-up type of meeting? Iverson wouldn’t ask him these things if he was planning on firing him, right?

Then Iverson asks, “Are you familiar with an agent named Keith Kogane, by any chance?” and Lance almost walks out of the room, his job be damned.

Keith Kogane. The bane of Lance’s existence for the last three years. Maybe that’s weird, because Lance has actually only met Keith once, but that encounter was enough to form Lance’s still-ongoing grudge against his fellow agent. Barely keeping his face neutral, Lance says, “Uh, yes, sir, I am.” _But I wish I wasn’t._

“How so?”

_We met my first day here. I accidentally found his weird basement office and wanted to see what case he was working on, you know, to start a friendly conversation. He just slammed the door in my face without even saying anything. It was a dick move._ “By his… reputation.” Lance quickly runs a hand over his mouth to stop himself from sneering, then hopes that Iverson didn’t notice. “He’s been here for almost seven years, currently known as the best analyst in the Violent Crimes Section and as a… conspiracy theorist, I guess. He had a nickname at the academy – Spooky Kogane.” Lance holds back a laugh at the memory and then immediately hates himself for finding amusement in something related to Keith Kogane. He also hates himself a little bit for even knowing anything about the guy, but that’s not really his fault. Everyone here knows Keith. Unfortunately.

Iverson levels him with a glare and Lance’s amusement dies out. He clears his throat and waits for Iverson to continue talking. “Agent Kogane is also becoming increasingly involved in a project outside of the Bureau mainstream. Are you familiar with the so-called ‘X-Files’?”

Lance actually has heard of that, and he just barely smirks as he replies, “I think they have something to do with unexplained phenomenons.” Of course Keith is involved with something like that. Spooky Keith, indeed.

“Mmm, essentially, yes,” Iverson confirms, looking put-out at the thought. Lance’s smirk grows and looks down for a second, trying to fight it. He doubts Iverson would appreciate him laughing right now.

“Now, the reason you’re here, Agent McClain, is because we want you to assist Kogane on these X-Files.” Lance blanches and almost misses the rest of his instructions due to his internal screaming: “You will write field reports on all the activities you do, along with your observations on the validity of the case work.”

What? He’s being forced to work with fucking Keith Kogane? Of course he is. Lance considers for half a second if maybe, just maybe, quitting would be the better option. “Uh… are you saying that you want me to… debunk all of… Agent Kogane’s cases on the ‘X-Files’ project?” He’s barely able to force out the words Agent Kogane, because when he complains about him to his friends, he always calls him a barrage of unflattering nicknames, like ‘Mullet’ and ‘fucking Kogane’ and, yes, ‘Spooky Kogane’. It’s an actual struggle calling him by his official title.

Iverson stares at him flatly. Lance shifts uncomfortably in his seat, but holds the chief’s gaze. “Agent McClain, we trust that you’ll make the proper scientific analysis. You’ll want to contact Agent Kogane shortly–”

_Not really,_ Lance thinks, already dreading their inevitable conversation.

“–and we look forward to seeing your reports. You’re dismissed.”

Lance stands up and tries to smile politely. “Thank you, sir.”

Once he’s outside of the room, though, his smile drops into a frown and he sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Fucking Kogane. Of course.

-

Lance knows that he should be going and talking to, _ugh,_ Agent Kogane, but he ends up stopping by the main floor to see his friends first.

“Can you guys fucking believe this?” he groans, dropping into the extra chair at Hunk’s desk that’s always left there for him. “I’m being forced to work with Mullet. The same guy who basically spit on my offer of friendship forever ago. Why does Iverson hate me?”

Hunk pats him on the back in a comforting manner while Allura smiles gently. “Oh, Lance, nobody could hate you! I think Iverson just wants you to expand your talents a bit, yeah? Your cases are all so similar. Working with the unusual could be exciting!”

“That’s more Pidge’s area, though,” he says, looking at said girl. Pidge is already nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, it is, but that’s probably why Iverson didn’t pick me. I’ve already done my fair share of working with Keith, and none of our cases were actually proved correct. Now, I know for a fact that Keith and I were always right–”

“Mothman doesn’t exist, Pidge,” Hunk reminds her cheerfully, and Pidge flips him off while continuing her rant.

“–but we could never get enough evidence, which- who cares? We were right. Anyway, he didn’t choose me because I’m not skeptical like you. Maybe he thinks you’ll be able to make Keith all down-to-earth, or some shit like that.”

Lance groans again and drops his head the rest on his arms. “That’s a stupid reason to make me work with somebody I hate.”

“Hate is such a strong word,” Allura muses, ruffling his hair. Lance swats her hand away and she laughs.

“Lance, I doubt you really hate him,” Hunk says, ever the optimist. Lance stares blankly at him. “I’m serious! You’ve never even had, like, a full conversation with him.”

“Exactly!” Lance complains, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. “That’s why I hate him!”

Hunk grips his shoulder and leans in close. Lance leans away, sticking his tongue out. “Lance. Just go down there, talk to him, work out whatever case he has, and I guarantee you that, by the end of this, you won’t hate Keith. It’s not like you to judge somebody so quickly.”

“Yeah, you’re usually so persistent,” Pidge agrees. “Like with Allura, for example.”

“Hey!” Lance whines, tossing a nearby pen at Pidge. She bats it away, grinning. “ _Gremlin._ ”

“I always though Lance’s persistence was charming,” Allura admits, and Lance clutches at his heart dramatically.

“Allura, you’re my new second-best friend. Pidge, you’ve dropped to third.”

Pidge grins almost evilly. “Yeah, you say that until I _accidentally_ forget your coffee one morning.”

Lance gasps, horrified. “That’s so cruel! Hunk, tell her that’s cruel, she can’t do that to me!”

“That’s cruel,” Hunk says gravely. Lance gives him a one-armed hug.

“Thanks, buddy!”

“Lance, if Pidge does… _forget_ your coffee, I can always have Romelle bring us some, don’t worry,” Allura says, smiling brightly, and Lance hugs her, too.

“Pass along my gratitude to your amazing girlfriend,” he says, deadly serious, and Allura giggles.

“Of course.”

Pidge shoves at Lance’s arm and he yelps, glaring at her again. “Go to Keith, already, Lance, and get the case that you’re _so_ not looking forward to over with.”

Lance knits his eyebrows. “You say that like I am looking forward to it. Which I’m not. Like, at all. Did you not listen to me earlier? Maybe there’s something wrong with your ears, Pidge.”

“Fuck off, McClain.”

“Good luck, man!” Hunk says, smiling and waving him off, and Allura nods. “You’ll be fine, Lance. Go on!”

Lance sighs and smiles slightly at his friends. “I guess we’ll see. Bye, guys.”

-

The elevator dings, the doors slide open, and Lance walks into the Bureau’s basement, already wary. He’s been here before, of course, but he still isn’t over how creepy and unnerving it is. It looks pretty normal, but the lights are too dim, and it smells musty, and it houses the office of one Spooky Kogane. Lance exhales heavily, breath almost shaky. He doesn’t want to do this.

He walks down the short hallway and then turns a corner, immediately in front of Kogane’s office. Lance hesitates, sighs, runs a hand through his hair, sighs again, and then knocks once, twice.

“Sorry,” an infuriatingly familiar voice deadpans from inside the room, “nobody down here except for the FBI’s most unwanted.”

Lance narrows his eyes. Kogane thinks he’s funny, huh? Well, he’s not. Lance rubs his eyes and then pushes open the door, stepping inside of the room that he hasn’t seen in almost three years.

It’s small, cramped, and exactly how Lance remembers in from his brief glance all that time ago. Shelves lined with books and binders and papers cover the walls. More papers and strange photos and a poster – an alien ship with the words, “I Want To Believe,” printed under the UFO – are pinned to an uncovered section of the wall. Keith Kogane himself sits at a small desk, apparently looking over some small pictures. Lance wanders in further, looking around in something that feels almost like awe, and then Kogane looks up, their gazes meeting.

Lance stops in his tracks, staring back at Kogane, and his initial thought is, for some fucking reason, _Wow, Keith is prettier than I remembered._ Then he mentally slaps himself. _Are you kidding?! Get yourself together! This is Kogane, whom you_ hate, _remember?_

He blinks and gives his head a quick shake. Focus. “Agent Kogane,” he says, forcing a smile. “I don’t know if you remember me, but–”

“I don’t,” Kogane says instantly. “Sorry, who are you?” _Oh my god._

“Oh my god,” he says aloud, the words slipping out of Lance’s mouth, and he turns away, face flushing. “I can’t do this.” He’s been down here less than five minutes and he’s already pissed off. What the fuck.

“Oh wait,” Kogane continues, and Lance turns around to glare at him. “Are you the agent they’re making work with me? The logical, medical one, or whatever?” Lance nods, still fuming. “Right. Sorry, I don’t remember your name, I tend to space out when the higher-ups are talking to me. Is it… Taylor, I think?”

Lance stares at him, his glare lessening to just a blank look of shock. “Oh my god, what? No! The name’s Lance, thank you! Lance McClain. I’d shake your hand, but you’ve already offended me, so I’m not going to bother.” He crosses his arms instead, unable to believe that this is how their second meeting was going – Kogane being unfairly attractive and then forgetting Lance’s name. God.

To his surprise, Kogane cracks a smile, though it looks sarcastic. “Right. So, how does it feel to be grounded to the basement?”

Lance quirks an eyebrow. “’Scuse me?”

“I’m just curious as to what you did to get stuck with all of this… McClain,” he adds a moment later, his smile turning into more of a smirk. Lance narrows his eyes.

“Actually,” he starts, the words painful to force out, “I’m… excited to work with you.” He makes a face after he’s done talking. The words left a bad taste in his mouth. _Excited. Yeah, right._

“Really?” Keith drawls, turning his attention back to the photos. “I was under the impression that you were sent to spy on me.”

Lance’s mouth actually falls open. “Spy on you? What the fuck kind of conspiracies have you been reading up on, lately?”

“The government spying on people isn’t a conspiracy, McClain,” Kogane replies immediately, turning around to stare at Lance. The dead-serious look in his eyes makes Lance want to back away, right out of the room. “They do it to everybody.”

“Okay,” Lance breathes. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

Kogane eyes him suspiciously. “Yeah. Well, if you really are here to work with me and not spy, I’m gonna ask for your medical-based opinion on this. I wanna see what you think.” He crosses the room and flips off the lights, turns on a projector, and an image of a bloodied girl is suddenly being cast onto the wall.

Lance feels his stomach clench at the sight. _Jesus._ “Oregon female, age twenty-one, no explainable cause of death,” Kogane begins, monotone. Lance can’t believe the lack of feeling the guy has. “Autopsy shows nothing.” He switches the image to a close-up of what looks to be the girl’s back. “There are, however, two distinct marks on her lower back.” Lance steps forward, squinting at the image. “Doctor McClain,” Kogane adds, and Lance pauses to look at him, already frowning. Kogane just looks back at him. “Can you identify these marks?” The words sound almost challenging, and Lance walks closer to the image, holding back a scoff. Of _course_ he can i.d. them.

After a quick examination of the image, Lance says, “They look like needle punctures, or maybe an animal bite. Electrocution, even. Why? What do you think they are?” He’ll challenge him back. He’s not afraid to question this guy.

Kogane just flips to another image. “How’s your chemistry?” he asks, gesturing to the picture. It’s got a chemical formula, and Lance tilts his head, considering. “This is the substance found in the surrounding tissue,” he continues, clarifying why it’s being shown, and Lance’s eyebrows creep upwards. Huh.

“It’s… organic. Uh… I- I dunno, is it some kind of, like, synthetic protein?” That doesn’t look right. No, that the hell?

“Beats me,” Kogane says, naturally unhelpful, and Lance rolls his eyes. At this rate, they’re never going to finish this case, and when Lance has to write his report, it’ll be horribly short and boring. Iverson will never let him work a case again, at that rate. He winces at the thought. “I’ve never seen it either, but here it is again, in South Dakota–” He flips to the next image. “–and again, in Shamrock, Texas.”

Lance refuses to admit out loud that he’s slowly becoming intrigued in this case now. “That’s weird,” he admits, turning to Kogane. The other agent shrugs. “Do you have a theory?” Lance adds, actually curious about his… partner’s thoughts. Yeah. They’re technically partners, now. “Wow,” he mutters under his breath. Lance McClain, partners with Keith “Spooky” Mulder. What a day, and it isn’t even noon yet.

“I have plenty of theories,” Kogane says, stepping up beside Lance, and Lance has to resist the urge to move away. He should probably drop the petty grudge he’s holding against him… maybe. He’ll think about it. “But maybe you can explain something to me.”

Lance looks at him, noting with surprised satisfaction that he has to actually look down a tad to meet Keith’s gaze. _Hah, take that, Mullet._ “What is it?”  
“Why is it Bureau policy to label cases like this one as ‘unexplained phenomenon’ and then just ignore them?”

“Uh…” Lance doesn’t have an answer to that, actually. Kogane seems to realize that, so he smirks, just barely, and adds, in a whisper, “Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?”

Lance backs away at that, rolling his eyes and trying to ignore the sudden warmth on his face. There’s no reason for that, what the hell. “Well, logically, I’m gonna have to say no,” he answers, shrugging. “No existing space craft would be able to make the distance from their planet to ours because nothing has the kind of energy to do that… yet, at least. I dunno, space travel is a cool concept, and I’d like to believe it, but… it doesn’t make sense.” Lance frowns at his own words. He’d love to travel in space one day, but like he told Kogane, it’s virtually impossible. It sucks, but oh, well.

He realizes after a moment that Kogane’s staring at him, and Lance wills himself not to blush under his gaze, _again._ He does anyway, though. Of course. “What?”

Kogane blinks and shakes his head. “Uh. Just- trying to remember the case info.” He walks back over to the projector and flips back to the first image. Lance shrugs again and looks towards the projected image. “This girl, the Oregon one – did you know that she’s the fourth person in her graduating class to die under mysterious circumstances? Science can’t really offer any good explanations for that, so why not turn to the weird and unnatural to look for an answer?”

Lance can’t stop the short laugh that bursts from him. Kogane looks offended, and Lance laughs again. “Seriously? The girl obviously died of _something._ If it was from natural causes, it’s possible something was missed during the autopsy. If she was murdered, it’s possible that the investigation was, well, messy and not completely thorough. And, y’know, actually, what I find weird is that you think that there could be any answer that’s not scientific. Everything is related to science, and I’ll bet this is too!” Kogane doesn’t look so annoyed anymore, but his frown is still in place. Lance shakes his head, exasperated again. “I mean, the answers are there, Kogane. You just have to know where to look. That’s why they put the I in FBI.” Lance grins smugly, both because of his comeback and his pun. His friends would be proud.

“I–” Kogane shakes his head, shutting his eyes tightly. “That was terrible.” Strangely, though, he almost looks like he’s fighting a smile. Surprised, Lance lets himself smile back.

Huh. Maybe Kogane isn’t as terrible as he initially thought… maybe. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, McClain,” he adds, crossing the room to grab his jacket, and Lance nods.

“We’re leaving for Oregon at eight.” With that, he leaves the room, pausing to cast a hesitant and awkward smile. Lance grins back, weirdly cheerful.

“See you, Kogane.”

Maybe this case won’t actually be so bad. Maybe.

-

The plane ride is boring.

Kogane is lying across an entire row, eyes closed and earbuds in his ears, listening to whatever it is that he listens to. Lance sits across the aisle, flipping through the case notes.

True to Kogane’s word, the girl who last died was the fourth one from her graduating class. It’s a strange coincidence, but it’s probably just that – a coincidence. Or maybe somebody just really has it out for the class of ’89. Lance isn’t sure yet.

Something dings, and then the captain starts telling everyone to fasten their seatbelts. Lance obediently puts away the case file and fastens the seatbelt, turning to face Kogane as he does so.

He looks peaceful. And calm. And stupidly cute. Lance’s face burns and he drops his gaze. Not even a full twenty-four hours ago, he couldn’t stand the guy, and yet…

Maybe he’d judged him too quickly. Kogane doesn’t seem as bad as his memory had made him out to be. Lance can give him a chance. They’ll work the case, Lance will find the scientific solution and debunk whatever weird theories Kogane comes up with (he still can’t get over Kogane’s lack of faith in science. How did he and Pidge ever get along?), and maybe they’ll end up as friends. Who knows?

Suddenly, the plane starts shaking violently, and Lance yelps as the overhead carriers open and spill everybody’s bags onto them. People are screaming, including Lance, and he catches sight of Kogane sitting up.

“Kogane–”

The shaking stops as suddenly as it started, and Lance exhales heavily, releasing his grip on the seat. Kogane turns towards him, eyes glinting.

“Must be in the right place,” is all he says, and Lance rolls his eyes.

“Must be,” he agrees sarcastically, waving Kogane off. His fellow agent just chuckles and settles back, and they wait for the plane to land.

-

Lance is flipping through the case file again when they’re in the car. He lets Kogane drive only because he’s too lazy to read directions, if he’s being honest. Not driving also gives him time to look over the case details again, too, so it’s a win-win.

Something catches his eye on one of the pages, and he pauses to read a few words. He purses his lips and raises his gaze to look at Kogane. “You didn’t tell me that this case has already been investigated before.”

It sort of bothers him, actually, that he’s not one of the first people to work this case. He likes being the first. It makes the case more fun, in his opinion.

“Yeah. The FBI got given the case when local authorities couldn’t figure anything out after the first few deaths. A couple of our guys were sent out here for a week, during which they enjoyed the scenery and such, and then they randomly got called back. The case was closed and reclassified as an X-File, and then I took it. So, don’t worry. We’ll be the first ones to actually make progress, and then we’ll also solve it. I just know it.”

“And your answer is still aliens, right?” Lance mutters, grinning when Kogane gives an exaggeratedly loud sigh.

“What will it take to convince you that there are beings other than humans existing elsewhere? The truth it out there, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance says, waving him off. Still smiling, he turns back to the file, reading a bit farther. Then he raises his eyebrows, taking note of something that Kogane hadn’t mentioned yet. “Oh, look at this. The previous autopsy reports showed nothing unusual, and they were done by a different guy than this latest one was. Did you notice that?”

Kogane looks at him quickly, smiling slightly. “No, I didn’t. That’s pretty good, McClain.”

“Better than you expected, or better than you hoped?” he asks, the words more challenging than he’d meant for them to be, but he doesn’t care. Maybe he and Kogane are getting along, but that’s not going to stop him from acting like this.

“Hmm. I’ll let you know once we’re past the easy part,” is all Kogane says, and Lance rolls his eyes, laughing quietly. _The easy part._ What counts as _‘the easy part’_ to Agent Mullet?

“Is the medical examiner a suspect?” he asks, looking over at Kogane again.

“Oh, we won’t know that until we do a little grave-digging.” Lance fights back a disgusted noise, wrinkling his nose. _Is he serious?_

“Not actual grave-digging, I hope? Cause I’m pretty sure that’s illegal on, like, several different levels. Also, it’s morally wrong.”

Kogane looks confused when he glances back over at Lance. “What? No, I’ve asked them to exhume the body of a previous victim to compare tissue samples. You know, dig it out _legally._ What the hell do you take me for?”

Lance shrugs, relieved that Kogane wasn’t planning on making him dig up a body. _Gross._ “I dunno, man, you did have that nickname back at the academy for a reason.”

“ _Spooky Kogane_ ,” his partner hisses, looking, for a moment, like he wants to crash the car as a way to never hear those words again. Lance snickers to himself. “I’m not even that spooky, though, am I?”

“Kinda,” Lance says breezily, and Kogane groans. Lance grins again.

“Fantastic.”

Their car radio startles them both out of conversation when it starts screeching out static noises, making Lance jump in his seat. He stares at the radio and watches it rapidly flip between stations. The screeching gets louder and Lance covers his ears, wincing. “The hell is going on?” he says, and Kogane, looking confused but not as bothered as Lance, pulls the car over.

Kogane climbs out of the car and Lance follows him a moment later, watching as the other man opens the trunk and pulls out a spray paint bottle. Lance stares at him, arms crossed, as he walks a few feet down the road and sprays a large orange “X” onto the gravel. Then he tosses the can back into the trunk and shuts it. Lance has no idea what to make of what he just witnessed, and he grabs Kogane’s arm before he can get back into the car.

“The hell was that about?” Lance says, gripping his arm, and Kogane flushes. Confused, Lance’s grip loosens a tad.

“Probably nothing,” Kogane mutters, trying to pull his arm back. Lance releases him and crosses his arms again, face burning. _This is getting ridiculous,_ he thinks, dropping his gaze. _I just grabbed his arm. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Even if it did feel nice._ “But we can never be sure.” He gets back into the car quickly, and Lance follows, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Nice going,” he mutters under his breath, sighing.

-

They reach the graveyard about twenty minutes after the weird-for-several-reasons incident on the road and climb out of the car, walking up to the grave they were interested in side-by-side.

One of the men breaks off from a crowd at the grave and meets them halfway. He shakes their hands in greeting and says, “Mr. Kogane, hi. I’m Rolo, from the coroner’s office.”

“Hi,” Kogane says, polite but obviously distracted. His gaze keeps focusing on the grave behind them, so Lance rolls his eyes and finishes the introductions.

“Sorry for my partner, this is the first time he’s been outside in three months,” Lance says, ignoring Kogane’s offended noise. Rolo smiles politely. “I’m Agent McClain, nice to meet you.”

“It’s good to meet you, Agent.”

“How soon can we get started?” Kogane says, inching past them, and Lance tosses the other man an apologetic look.

“Now, actually,” Rolo says, waving a hand in the grave’s direction, and Kogane takes off. Lance follows quickly, kicking at the grass as he walks.

“We’re able to do an examination, right?” Kogane asks Rolo, and the other man answers with, “Yes, and I think we found something, actually–”

A car door slams behind them, and then a new voice is calling, “Excuse me!” Lance swivels around, tugging on Kogane to keep him in place. Kogane sighs, annoyed, but stays put.

A man and a teenaged girl – his daughter, maybe? – are walking towards them, but then the man stops and holds back the girl. They seem to argue for a few moments, and Lance shifts awkwardly, not sure what to do. Eventually, the girl gets back in the car, and then it’s just the man walking towards them.

“I just don’t know who you people think you are,” the man’s huffing when he reaches them, angry, and Lance raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t know who he thinks _he_ is,” he mutters to Kogane, and his partner actually snorts. Lance grins a little.

“You just think you can come up here and do whatever you damn well please, don’t you?” the man continues, his voice rising along with his look of agitation. Lance has no idea what they’ve done to offend this stranger, and he crosses his arms, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Kogane says, stepping up next to Lance, and he straightens, hoping that, together, they can, like, intimidate the man into leaving them alone. It doesn’t seem to be working, though.

“I’m doctor Jay Nemman, the county medical examiner,” he says with a tone that suggests they should’ve already known. Lance frowns in distaste. _This guy’s a tool,_ he thinks, narrowing his eyes.

Kogane also looks annoyed, mouth twisting as he says, “I assume you were informed of our intentions to come up here–”

“No, actually,” Nemman interrupts, “we’ve been away.”

“Oh,” Kogane says, looking at Lance and making a face again. Lance turns away to hide his amused smile. “Well, that answers the question that we had, then – why you hadn’t done the recent autopsy on Karen Swenson. You… are aware of the tissue sample taken from her body, right?”

The guy fidgets almost nervously, and Lance feels himself start to grow suspicious already. Here was some guy – country medical examiner, whatever – trying to keep them from doing their job while conveniently having been away when the most recent victim was examined and discovered to have an abnormal substance on her. This guy is already a suspect, in Lance’s eyes.

“What are you trying to imply?” the doctor says, glaring at Kogane. “That I missed something during my examinations? Because I can assure you that I did not–”

Lance is tired of this guy. “We’re not implying anything, sir,” he says, somehow keeping a polite tone and smile as he leans forward, staring right at the doctor. Then he swiftly turns around and starts to walk towards the grave. Behind him, Kogane follows immediately behind him, and his smile grows more genuine at that.

“Wait, wait–” The doctor hurries after them and Lance feels a sudden urge to hurl something at the guy. They’re just trying to work, can he leave them the hell alone? The guy reaches them and grabs onto Kogane’s arm, and then Lance is suddenly pushing the guy’s hand off of his partner’s arm and hissing, “Don’t grab him like that.”

“Lance,” Kogane says, surprised, and Lance starts at the use of his first name. He blinks and then drops his gaze, face practically lighting on fire.

“Sorry,” he mutters. Kogane shakes his head.

“No, it’s, uh- it’s fine.”

The doctor clears his throat and Lance looks back at him, willing the heat in his face to recede. It doesn’t.

“If you two are finished,” the doctor sniffs, and Lance feels only moments away from pushing this prick down the hill. “I think you are implying something, and if you’re making an accusation, then you’d better have proof for it.”

Kogane opens his mouth, probably about to tell the guy to fuck off – and if he doesn’t, then Lance will – but the guy’s daughter is calling out before he can.

“Daddy, please,” she begs. “Let’s just go home.” When Nemman waves her off, she repeats, sounding more upset, “Let’s go home, _please_.”

Nemman glances between her and Kogane, then her and Lance, and then finally stalks off without another word. Lance smiles grimly. “Finally,” he says, and Keith nods, sighing.

“That guy was a jerk,” he agrees, forcing a laugh out of Lance.

“Yeah, definitely. I think he needed a longer time away.”

Kogane smiles and then gestures to the grave. “Shall we?”

They head up and watch as the coffin gets hauled out of its six-foot hole and placed onto the ground beside it.

“Ray Soames, the third victim,” Lance says aloud as he reads from the file. “After he graduated from high school, he spent some time in a state mental hospital to be treated for post-adolescence schizophrenia.” _Damn, poor guy._

“Soames actually confessed to the first two murders,” Kogane adds. “He asked to be locked up for the murders, but he couldn’t produce any evidence to actually having committed them. Did you read the cause of death yet?” He looks over Lance’s shoulder at the paper, barely any space between them, and Lance inhales sharply. _Focus, McClain._

“Uh- exposure. His body was found in the woods after having escaped from the hospital.”

“He was missing for only seven hours,” Kogane says. “How does a twenty-year-old guy die from exposure on a warm summer night?”

Lance widens his eyes to feign shock. “Oh my god – it was aliens, wasn’t it?”

“I’m gonna leave you in Texas when it’s time to leave,” Kogane complains, flipping Lance off discreetly. Lance hides his face behind the file and laughs a bit too hard. When he’s done, he looks at Kogane only to find him already staring, and he says, “What?”

Kogane turns away and coughs. “Nothing. Oh, look, the coffin’s out. Let’s go do that examination, yeah?” With that, he walks to the coffin, and Lance trails behind, frowning at Kogane’s mullet. _He should get that cut,_ he thinks absently.

The coffin lid is being pulled back when they reach it, and a horrible stench starts to fill the area. Lance nearly gags and turns away, eyes watering. “Oh my god,” he mutters. “That’s _terrible_.” Then he catches sight of the body, and his heart stops.

There is no way that the body in the coffin is human. Its head is strangely ovular-shaped, its arms are twice the length they should be, its legs aren’t positioned correctly. It’s… just not right.

“Seal this up,” Kogane orders quickly. “Nobody sees this.”

The lid gets shut quickly and the smell disappears. Lance looks at Kogane, not quite sure what the make of what they just saw, and Kogane looks back, his eyes filled with questions.

“Let’s go,” Kogane says, and Lance doesn’t bother arguing.

-

Lance glares flatly at Kogane when the camera flash goes off again. “Can you not?”

“This is incredible, McClain,” his partner says, ignoring Lance’s understandable request. He sighs and continues to measure the corpse. “I mean, _look at this_.”

“Subject is a hundred and fifty-six centimeters long,” Lance says in a monotone, sighing when Keith snaps another photo. “Weighs fifty-two pounds… corpse is in advanced stages of decay and desiccation. Distinguishing features include large ocular cavities and oblate cranium.” He frowns. “These features indicate that the subject is not human. And no,” he adds when Keith perks up, “I highly doubt it’s alien. Also, please, turn that damn thing off.”

Kogane ignores him again and Lance drags a hand down his face. “Then what is it, if it isn’t human?” Kogane challenges, and Lance looks the body over again, determined to come up with an answer.

“It’s mammalian, I can tell that much. Uh… likely something from the ape family, probably an orangutan. So… not alien.” He smirks at Kogane, who just stares back, practically pouting. Lance refuses to think it’s cute and tries to focus on the annoyance he’s feeling instead.

“But- buried in the city cemetery, in Ray Soames’ grave? Try explaining that to people, McClain. I want tissue samples and x-rays done, I want to know the blood type,  
everything.”

Lance’s smirk falls and he stares at Kogane in shock. “You’re serious? Mullet, this isn’t one of your aliens, okay? This is probably some sort of sick joke, that’s all.” Why is this guy so obsessed with fucking aliens? Lance is honestly starting to get a little concerned.

“Can we just do the x-rays?” Kogane asks, and when Lance eyes him warily, he continues, voice soft, “I’m not crazy, Lance.”

There’s his first name again. Lance kind of likes how Kogane says his name, but he’s not about to say anything.

“I have doubts like you too,” Kogane adds, and Lance sighs, finally relenting.

“Let’s do the x-rays, then.”

Kogane’s answering smile is soft and makes Lance’s heart stutter. He hates it. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance mutters, going to get the needed equipment.

-

They’re back in their hotel a few hours later. Lance is in his room across the hall, typing up his current report after just having finished examining their weirdest piece of evidence – a little metal object found in the body’s nose – when a knock sounds at the door. “Who is it?” he calls, confused. It’s way too early for guests.

“Steven Spielberg,” Kogane answers sarcastically, and Lance doesn’t bother holding back his grin at that. It’s not like anybody can see him, anyway.

He opens the door to find Kogane dressed in shorts and a tee, a baseball hat pulled over his head, too. He’s practically buzzing with energy and Lance raises an eyebrow, silently questioning his current state.

“I’m pretty wired up,” Kogane admits, and Lance laughs.

“Spooky Kogane, wired up? I didn’t think you could get so energetic. It’s strange. Almost… alien.”

Kogane snorts. “I’m going for a run. Thought I’d invite you.”

Lance smiles and shakes his head. “Pass. I’m exhausted.”

“Make any more interesting discoveries?” Kogane asks suddenly, curious, and Lance shakes his head, yawning.

“Nope, and I refuse to lose sleep over trying to.”

Kogane smiles back. “Yeah, I get that. Well. Good night, I guess. See you in the morning.”

“Don’t get abducted,” he teases, and Kogane actually sticks his tongue out. It’s an immature gesture that makes Lance laugh, and he backs into his room, closing the door after him.

“Night, Keith,” he calls, and it’s not until he’s in bed that he registers that he called Kogane by his first name. Huh. It… actually didn’t sound so strange. _Weird._

Lance falls asleep that night debating on whether or not he should start calling his partner ‘Keith’.

-

“Ray Soames was a patient of ours, yes,” the psychiatric doctor is saying to them. Lance lets his eyes wander over the scenery around them. The hospital grounds are actually really nice. “I oversaw his treatment for clinical schizophrenia for about a year. He had an inability to grasp reality, and he seemed to suffer from some form of post-traumatic stress.”

“My brother has than” Keith says, almost absently, and Lance finds himself nodding in remembrance. He knows Keith’s older brother, Shiro. He’d fought oversea for a couple of years and ended up getting sent home after a particularly bad attack. He’s currently recovering, and even works with them at the Bureau, but Lance knows it’s a difficult subject for most. “Have you ever seen anything like it before?” Keith adds, and the doctor nods.

“I’ve treated similar cases, yes.”

“Were any of those Ray Saomes’ classmates?” Lance asks, and the doctor nods in confirmation. Lance frowns thoughtfully.

“We’re trying to find any connections in these deaths,” Keith admits. “Did you treat any of these kids with hypnosis?”

Lance’s eyebrows fly up. _Hypnosis?_ The doctor sort of laughs and shakes his head.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Are you treating any other kids right now?” Lance asks, forcing himself back on track. _Hypnosis._ What was Keith on about?

“Currently, I’m treating Billy Miles and Peggy O’Dell. Both have been long-term, live-in patients.”

Lance draws to a stop, making the other men pause, too. “Are they here, at this hospital?”

“Yes. It’s been almost four years, now.”

Lance looks off in the direction of the hospital. It doesn’t look very welcoming, and he fights a shiver. “Would, uh, would it be possible to talk to them, maybe?”

The doctor sighs and shoves his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Well… you may find it a difficult task. Especially with Billy Miles.”

They head towards the hospital in silence until they’re walking down the hall towards one of the rooms. “What are you hoping to get from talking to the patients?” Keith asks in a whisper, and Lance shrugs.

“Some kind of connection, hopefully.”

They enter the room and the doctor starts talking again. “Billy’s experiencing what we call a waking coma,” he says, leading them towards a bed. A young man lies in it, eyes vacant. “He’s alive, but he can’t move or speak or do much of anything, really.”

“How’d it happen?” Lance says, stepping in close and looking at Billy. The man doesn’t move.

“Car accident,” sighs the doctor, sounding regretful. Then he gestures to the young woman sitting beside Billy’s bed, softly reading aloud from a book. “Peggy?”

The woman pauses in her reading and glances up. Her face is similarly blank, but Lance can see an awareness in her eyes that isn’t present in Billy.

“Peggy, we have some visitors. Would you like to talk to them? Just for a short while.”

Peggy gives a small shake of her head. “Billy wants me to read now,” is all she says. Lance exchanges a look with Keith, and they frown at each other. Then Keith steps around the bed to crouch in front of Peggy. Lance watches warily.

“Does he like it when you read to him?” Keith asks softly, and Peggy stares at him, seemingly surprised to be spoken to.

After a moment, she nods, slowly. “Yes. Billy… he needs me close.” When she says nothing else, Keith gets up and goes to the doctor, and Lance hears him say, “Doctor, can we do a cursory medical exam on Peggy?”

Lance flinches when he hears a clang, and he turns to see Peggy knocking things onto the floor. She doesn’t seem to be a fan of the idea, and Lance goes to try and help the nurse calm Peggy down.

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs softly, shooting a panicked glance at Keith. His partner looks back, concerned. He looks to Peggy again and falls back in shock when he realizes that her nose is bleeding. “What the hell?”

Peggy’s shrieks nearly drown out the shouts of, “Nobody’s trying to hurt you!” She doesn’t seem to be listening, though, and falls out of her wheelchair, still screaming. Lance falls to his knees beside her, patting her arm and saying, “Hey, we’re not gonna hurt you, calm down.” He looks across her to find Keith tugging her shirt up, and just as Lance opens his mouth to yell _What the fuck are you doing?_ he sees two marks on her lower back.

The same marks the latest victim had.

Lance stares at them in horror and then looks back up at Keith, who’s already staring at him, mouth flat and eyebrows drawn together.

Lance stands up and helps the doctor pull Peggy up and back into her wheelchair. She continues to sob, even when the nurse starts talking in a swift, calm voice to her. Lance steps back, covering his mouth.

What the hell does it mean if those marks are appearing on living people as well? That throws them off a ton. Confused and frightened at both the marks and the whole event that just went down, Lance stalks out of the room, ignoring Keith’s call of, “McClain? Where are you going?”

Lance is outside by the time Keith catches up, and he gently grabs his wrist. Lance stares at the ground, still trying to process everything.

“Are you okay?” Keith asks, softly, and when Lance doesn’t answer, he tugs him closer. “Lance?”

“How did you know that girl was going to have those marks?” is what he finally says, and Keith drops his wrist to shrug and run a hand through his hair. Lance crosses his arms, waiting.

“I dunno. Lucky guess?” But his eyes are on the ground, and maybe Lance has only really known Keith for two days, but he can already tell he’s keeping something back.

“Cut the shit, Kogane. What the hell is going on here? What do you know about those marks? What are they?” He’s breathing heavily, the fear in him heightening. He hates this case. He should’ve quit instead of actually working it. Why did he agree to this?

“I… don’t think you’re ready for what I think,” Keith says eventually. The words sting unexpectedly, and Lance glares at him.

“I’m here to solve this case, Kogane,” he snaps. “So just be honest with me, here.”

Keith still doesn’t meet his gaze, eyes trained on something off in the distance. “You want the truth?” he mutters, and Lance rolls his eyes.

“Yes!”

“I think those kids were abducted,” Keith finally says, voice quiet but certain, and Lance stares at him. He’s not sure if he should be surprised or not that this is what Keith thinks.

“Abducted by who?” he asks, and Keith turns to finally look at him again, eyes round with shock, maybe at the fact that Lance isn’t laughing at him. But Lance can’t see anything funny about this, not even Keith’s theory. He just wants to know who’s killing these poor kids. “C’mon, man, you have to give me a little bit more detail than that.”

“Not- not a who,” Keith says, “a what. Something abducted those kids.”

Lance shakes his head, coughing a bitter laugh. “You can’t honestly believe that. I just want to solve this case, man, give me something rational to go on.”

“I don’t see you offering up anything,” Keith points out. Lance blinks. _He has a point,_ his mind says.

_Shut up, brain,_ he thinks to himself.

“That girl, Peggy – I think she’s suffering from some sort of pronounced psychosis. Whether it’s organic or a result of those marks, I don’t know, but to say that they’ve been flying around in fucking UFO’s, I mean- it’s crazy, Keith! There’s no proof for it!”

Keith narrows his eyes. Lance just keeps glaring, refusing to back down.

“Nothing scientific, you mean,” he says, and Lance sighs.

“There has to be a reasonable explanation, okay? There’ve been four victims, all of whom died in or near the woods. I mean, hell, Karen Swenson was found ten miles from her house, in her pajamas, in the woods. I think we need to check that area out, yeah?”

His partner crosses his arms and nods once. “Alright. You make a good point. We’ll go do that tonight.”

“Thank you,” Lance huffs, his hands dropping to rest on his hips. “Was that so hard?” He can feel himself starting to calm down, thankfully. He’s pretty sure he was far too close to full-on freaking out.

Keith lets out a soft sigh. “No, I guess not.” Then his lips quirk up in a half-smile and Lance frowns.

“What?”

“You’re funny when you’re acting all feisty and stuff,” is all Keith says, and Lance practically chokes, face flushing for what feels like the hundredth time just this past week.

“I- what does that even _mean?_ Are you saying I’m _not_ feisty? Because I’ll- I’ll show _you_ feisty!”

Keith laughs and Lance pauses his rant, feeling his face warm even more. _Keith should laugh more,_ he thinks.

“C’mon, McClain, let’s get ready to investigate the woods.”

“Uh- yeah, alright,” Lance mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Alright.”

-

Unsurprisingly, it’s dark as hell that night.

Lance trails behind Keith, jumping at every little noise he hears. He hates the woods, he hates the dark, and he especially hates the woods when they’re dark. Why did he suggest this, again?

Something snaps right next to him and he yelps, flying forward and slamming into Keith’s back. _“Whatthehell,”_ he hisses all in one breath, and Keith sighs.

“It was probably an animal, or something,” he says, gently pushing Lance away. “Calm down.” Lance straightens and crosses his arms indignantly.

“What? I didn’t say anything. I’m not scared.”

Something else snaps just then and Lance jumps, whirling around and throwing his hands out. “What- what was that?!”

Keith lets out a quiet huff of a laugh and Lance spins around to face him again, pointing his flashlight threateningly. “Shut the fuck up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he says, smirking, and Lance whacks him with the flashlight. Keith winces and backs away. “Dude, chill out.”

“ _You_ chill out,” Lance mutters, intent on stalking off in the opposite direction to get away from Keith and his stupid laugh, but then another noise sounds and he whimpers, inching his way back towards Keith. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

“This was your idea,” Keith unhelpfully reminds him, and Lance pushes him, scowling.

“Whatever, Mullet.”

They continue their journey in silence, Keith occasionally shining his light on his compass to check their direction. After a few minutes of that, he stops walking and Lance walks right into his back. He jumps back and snaps, “Can you not randomly stop like that?”

“Look at this,” Keith says, turning around. He holds the compass out, lit up by the flashlight, and Lance watches as the compass swings around wildly. It doesn’t stop on any particular direction. They lock gazes, Keith’s eyes glinting with an excitement Lance knows he doesn’t share.

“Uh.”

“Give me a minute,” Keith says, and jogs off in a random direction before Lance can say anything. He stares after his partner, mouth open. “Okay, sure. Just leave me all alone. Great idea.”

He drops into a sitting position on the ground, refusing to move until Keith comes back. He lets his eyes drop to the ground and then tilts his head in a considering manner. Huh. There’s a fine powder that doesn’t quite match the dirt he’s sitting in. Maybe he should take some of it to examine later. It might be useful. He pockets a handful and then stands back up just in time to see a light flare up off in the distance. He freezes, then draws his gun quickly, pointing it with a barely-steady hand. The hell is that?

“Kogane?” he calls carefully, walking towards the light. Some sort of loud humming noise grows in volume as he walks closer, and he comes up to an incline in the ground. The light seems to be coming from just beyond it, and he starts to walk up the ground with slow, careful steps.

“Keith, is that you? Are you okay?” he yells, not taking his eyes off the light. It’s bright enough to sting and he blinks a few times, tries to focus a little better. “Keith!”

He yelps when a figure appears at the top of the incline, standing eerily still. Then the figure holds up something that looks like a shot gun and Lance aims his gun at the figure. “Special Agent McClain, drop your weapon,” he orders firmly and quickly, willing the figure to come into focus.

His eyes finally focus enough to realize that the figure is human. He gives a silent sigh of relief when the man says, “I’m with the county sheriff’s department. You’re trespassing on private property.”

Lance frowns and lowers his gun. Private property? Since when were the woods private? “We’re conducting an investigation,” he explains, and then Keith practically materializes beside him, gun drawn. “Keith, you’re okay,” he exclaims, almost collapsing with relief. Keith doesn’t look at him, but he sees him take on a tiny smile.

“I’m gonna ask the both of you to get in your car and leave, now,” the man says, and Lance focuses back on him, frowning again. He’s glad this guy isn’t somebody dangerous, but he is annoying. “Or I’ll arrest you. I don’t care who you are.”

“Hold on,” Keith says quickly. “This is a crime scene. We just want to–”

“Did you hear me?” the guy snaps, and Lance starts to clench his fist before remembering that he’s holding his gun, and he forces himself to relax. Firing a shot right now would definitely get them arrested, even if they do agree to leave. “You’re on private property. Get out.”

They stand off for a few more moments, then start to back off. Keith lowers his gun and Lance moves next to him, eyeing the guy at the top of the incline warily. Once the guy turns away from them and heads toward the light, Lance feels okay about turning his back and heading towards the car, Keith trailing behind him.

“Well, that sucked,” Lance mutters once they’re in the car, and Keith groans.

“Damn local police never allow us to do anything, what the hell,” he sighs, backing the car up and then turning them onto the road. Lance hums a sound of agreement, staring out the window.

“The hell’s he doing out there by himself?” Keith asks a while later, and Lance suddenly remembers the weird stuff in the dirt. He pulls the handful out and holds it up, squinting at it.

“Maybe it’s related to this,” he says, and Keith turns on the car light so they can see it better. Lance runs a finger through it. “What do you think it is?”

Keith touches the powder lightly, brushing Lance’s hand when he does so, and Lance tries not to jump at the contact. _Pull yourself together, geez._ “I dunno,” Keith murmurs. “From a campfire, maybe?”

“It was all over the ground,” Lance says, tilting his hand. The substance looks like sand, but Lance doubts that’s what it is. “I really think something’s going on out there. Maybe… some kind of sacrifice?” He straightens in his seat at the idea, frowning. “What if those kids are involved in some sort of a cult, Keith, and that man out there knows something about it? Oh my god.” Lance falls back against his seat, staring out the window. “We need to come back here, keep looking around.”

“I thought you were scared of the woods,” Keith mutters, and Lance turns to snap at him, but then he sees that Keith’s attention is mostly on his compass. He frowns and says, “Could you keep your eyes on the road, please?”

Keith doesn’t answer and instead turns his attention to his watch. “What are you doing, man?” Lance asks, glancing between him and the road quickly. He’s glad no other cars seem to be in the area, because at this rate, they’d get into, like, seven accidents at once, probably. “ _Keith._ Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Keith finally says, looking out of his window. “Just, uh–”

“What are you looking for?” Lance asks, turning towards his own window, and then the same light from earlier flashes brightly around them.

Lance cries out and shuts his eyes, and then the light’s gone just a few seconds later. The car rolls to a stop and Lance opens his eyes carefully, turning to see Keith doing the same. “What the fuck was that?” he whispers, eyes wide, and Keith doesn’t answer, looking completely caught off-guard. He tries to start the car, but the engine refuses to come on, it seems. “What happened?” Lance says, eyes glued to Keith.

“We lost power,” Keith says, checking his watch. His eyes go wide and Lance leans forward, going, “What? What is it?”

“We lost nine minutes,” Keith breathes, and then throws himself out of the car, whooping. Lance follows suit, staring at his partner through the rain in shock.

“Uh, buddy? You good?” Lance calls, and Keith turns around to face him, grinning.

“ _Nine minutes,_ ” he yells, jogging towards the front of the car, and Lance follows him, not understanding what Keith means by _we lost nine minutes._ How do you lose time like that?

“It was nine-o-three just before that flash, and it just turned nine-thirteen,” he adds, and Lance stares at him, squinting to see him better.

“What?” he finally yells, face scrunched in confusion. “That makes no sense!”

Keith just shakes his head and points to a spot on the road ahead of them. “Look!” he yells, and then Lance sees the orange ‘X’ Keith had spray-painted on the ground just  
yesterday. He stares at the mark, then at Keith, who’s grinning a little crazily. “Yes!” he shouts, actually jumping up and down, and if Lance weren’t so utterly confused, he might find that a little cute. Maybe. “Abductees! People that have claimed to see UFOs, they almost always report an unexplained time loss.”

“Oh my god, Kogane,” Lance groans. Keith waves his hands around excitedly.

“ _Gone!_ Just like that!”

“Keith,” Lance yells, running a hand through his hair in agitation, “you’re saying that time itself just- just disappeared. Time can’t- it can’t do that! What the hell are you talking about?”

From behind them, the car starts up suddenly, and Lance jumps, throwing a look towards it. The engine is revving and the headlights are on them. He stares at the car. _What the fuck._

“Apparently it can do that here,” Keith says, and then runs back to the car. Lance follows him, shaking his head the whole way. What the _fuck_ is going on in this town?

-

Lance is typing up more of his report back in the hotel when the power goes out. He stares at his black screen for a moment, then groans, loudly. “Of course. Of _course._ ”

After stewing angrily for a few minutes, he sighs and gets up. Might as well use this time wisely and take a bath.

He lights a candle and goes into the bathroom, setting it down on the rim of the bathtub. He turns on the faucet and pulls his shirt of, sighing. When he reaches to pull his jeans off, too, he runs his hand over his back and promptly freezes. Slowly, he touches a part of his lower back.

There are two marks there.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, and then sprints his way to Keith’s room across the hall. He pounds on the door, breathing heavily, until Keith opens it. His eyebrows shoot up at the sight of Lance, shirtless and disheveled, in front of him.

“Hi?”

“I need you to look at something,” he whispers, and Keith takes on a concerned expression. He opens the door wider and Lance stumbles in, grabbing onto Keith’s arm.

“Are you okay?” Keith asks, and Lance just pushes down the top of his jeans. Behind him, Keith makes a noise of surprise, and Lance flushes, trying to ignore how Keith might be perceiving the situation. He can be embarrassed about it later.

“The- the marks, on my back,” he stammers, clearing his throat. “What are they?”

Keith is silent for a moment. “Oh,” he says eventually, and then, “ _Oh,_ ” in a more surprised tone. “Uh, hang on–”

Silence fills the room, and then Lance feels warm fingers on his lower back, brushing the marks. Lance holds back a sigh and then manages to ask, “Well? What are they?”

Keith lets out a relieved laugh and Lance turns around, fixing his jeans. “What?”

“Mosquito bites,” Keith says, grinning, and Lance sighs with crushing relief.

“Oh my god,” he says, and then he throws himself at Keith, burying his face in his chest. “Thank god, I was so scared for a moment.”

Keith tentatively puts an arm around Lance and then starts rubbing his back soothingly. “I was too,” he admits, voice low, and then asks, “Are you okay, Lance? You’re shaking.”

“Yeah,” Lance breathes, slowly backing away and hugging himself. He tries to hold back another shiver and says, weakly, “I need to sit down.”

Keith leads him to a chair and Lance practically falls into it. Keith sits in the other chair, watching him carefully. “Take your time.”

Lance gives him a shaky thumbs-up. “Yeah, I will.”

Later, Keith starts talking. Lance wonders if he’s doing it to calm himself down, or maybe actually to calm Lance down, but whatever the case, he doesn’t make him stop talking.

“I was around ten when it happened. My mom randomly disappeared from her room one night. She was just… gone. Vanished. No note, no phone call, no evidence that anything happened, really.”

“You never found her,” Lance says. It’s not a question; he already knows the answer. He looks at Keith and sees that his partner is staring blankly at the wall.

“It tore my family apart. Nobody wanted to talk about it. My dad shut himself off from everyone, and my brother, who was seventeen at the time, became a ghost. There was just… nothing to look at, to confront, to figure out what happened. To offer any hope.”

Lance finds himself aching for Keith. That must’ve been terrible to go through. “What’d you do?” he asks, voice softs, and Keith blinks and meets his gaze. His eyes are shiny.

“Eventually, I went off to school over in Europe and then came back. Shiro was already part of the Bureau by then, and he helped me to get recruited. I guess I was a natural for this kinda stuff, I dunno. I was allowed some freedom there to pursue my own interests, which led me to the X-Files.”

“By accident?” Lance asks, surprised. “I thought you went after them on purpose.”

Keith smiles a little. “It looked like trash at first. Just a shit ton of cases over UFO sightings, alien abductions – you know, stuff most people just laugh at. But… I was fascinated. I read through every case I could, from paranormal activity to encounters with cults, and…” He trails off and looks away, and Lance leans forward, hooked by this point. Keith is… way more interesting than he would’ve thought just a week ago.

“What? What is it?”

“I… I’ve been trying to access some classified government information recently, and there’s somebody blocking my attempts,” he admits, and Lance stares at him.

“Well… obviously? The hell kinda information are you trying to get to, anyway?”

“Classified stuff,” Keith says, smirking, and Lance grins and throws a nearby pillow at him.

“Okay, fine. But who’s trying to block you, then? Do you know that, at least?”

Keith’s face falls, and he frowns at the ground. “Someone at a higher level of power, definitely. I mean, by now, the only reason I’m allowed to keep working is because I have connections in Congress.”

Lance blinks, startled. _He has what now?_ “I- okay. But… what are they afraid of, then, that you’ll leak this info?”

“You’re a part of that agenda,” Keith says, raising an eyebrow. “You know that.”

The distrust in his eyes sort of hurts Lance. “I’m not a part of any agenda,” he argues. “You’ve got to trust me, Keith. I’m here, same as you. I want to solve this.”

Keith leans forward at that, his gaze boring into Lance’s. Lance stares back steadily. His heart pounds just a little harder.

“I’m telling you this, Lance, because you need to know. Because of what you’ve seen. In my research, I’ve worked very closely with a man named Kolivan. He’s taken me through hypnosis several times, and I’ve been able to go into my own repressed memories of the night my mother disappeared. I can recall a bright light, just outside, and a presence in the house. I… I was paralyzed. I couldn’t respond to my mother’s calls for help. Listen to me, Lance,” he suddenly exclaims, leaning farther forward, and all Lance can do is stare at him, frozen. “This thing- it exists.”

“But how do you know–” Lance starts, and Keith cuts him off quickly.

“The government knows, Lance! I have to know what it is they’re hiding. Nothing else matters to me, and this is as close as I’ve ever gotten to it.”

They stare at each other, Lance wide-eyed and Keith narrow-eyed, and then the phone rings, startling them both. Keith recovers first and grabs it, answering it quickly. “Hello?” he greets, Lance still staring, heart still pounding too hard. “What?” Keith says, and Lance starts at the confusion in his voice. “Who is this? Who–” Keith pulls the phone back to stare at it, then he hangs up. He looks at Lance, eyebrows knit. “That was some woman… and she just said that Peggy O’Dell is dead.”

“What?” Lance gasps, horrified. “The girl in the wheelchair?” Keith nods.

“Let’s go check it out.”

-

The crime scene is buzzing with activity when they get there despite it being almost midnight. They park at the side of the road and climb out, each heading a different direction to ask around. Lance heads for the ambulance, where the girl’s body lay beside it on the ground. He pulls the sheet back, wincing at the sight of her. “God,” he mutters, stricken with a sudden sadness. “Poor girl.” He looks her over and then catches sight of her watch. It’s stopped, and he looks closer to see that it’s stopped at nine-o-three. He scrambles to his feet, eyes wide. “What the hell?”

He spots Keith down the road with an officer, throwing his hands in the air in what looks like agitation, and jogs toward them. “Can we ask you a couple of questions?” he starts to ask, but then Keith is steering him towards the car.

“Somebody broke into the lab and stole the body,” he says, and Lance cries, “What? Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately. Let’s get back to the motel.”

They arrive to find the motel parking lot also filled with people, mainly cops and firemen, and Lance’s heart drops at the sight. “Oh, fuck,” he breathes as the fly out of the car and towards the building. Flames are coming out of the windows and through the roof, and Lance heaves a sigh. “There goes my computer, I guess.”

“Dammit!” Keith snaps, throwing something in frustration. “There goes the rest of our evidence, too! Fuck.”

A young woman breaks off from the crowd and jogs over, looking distraught, and Lance recognizes her after a moment as Nemman’s daughter. “I’m Theresa Nemman,” she says, glancing between them rapidly, eyes filled with fear. “You’ve got to protect me!”

“What?” Lance says, reaching for her, and she clutches onto his arm desperately. He pats her back, looking at Keith for help.

“Come with us,” he says, leading them towards the car, and Lance helps to pull Theresa along.

-

They end up in some fast food restaurant, sitting across from Theresa at a table. It takes her a few minutes to get talking, but she does eventually, eyes downcast.

“This... thing has been happening recently. I don’t know how it does or how I get out there; I’ll just find myself… out in the woods.” She looks up, the fearful look back, and Lance reaches across to pat her hand.

“How long has it been happening?” Keith asks, straight to business. Lance elbows him, and Keith frowns and mouths, _‘What?’_

“Ever since the summer we graduated,” Theresa says, voice shaking as much as her hands. “It’s happened to my friends, too. That’s why I need you – to protect me. I’m scared that I might… die. Like the others.” Her gaze falls again, her voice coming out in a whisper. “Like… Peggy.”

Keith suddenly snaps his fingers and points at her. “Your father’s the medical examiner. You were the one on the phone,” he realizes, and Lance looks at Theresa for confirmation.

She stays still, staring at the table. “You told me Peggy had been killed.”

Theresa finally nods.

“Your father knows about this, Theresa, doesn’t he?” Lance asks softly. “About what happens?”

“Yes,” she says quietly. “But- but he said to never tell anyone about any of it.”

Keith tilts his head. “Why?”

“Well… he wants to protect me. He thinks he can, but- but I don’t.”

Keith stares at her intensely. “Do you have the marks, Theresa?”

Theresa sniffs and nods, looking up slowly. “Yes… I’m going to die, aren’t I? I’m gonna be next.”

“Oh, Theresa, no,” Lance says softly, picking up and clutching her hand. She squeezes his tightly. “You’re not going to die.”

Theresa nods, unconvinced, and then a stream of blood falls from her nose. She gasps and Lance moves quickly, muttering, “Oh, god,” as he grabs a pile of napkins and presses them to her face. Keith slides out of the booth behind him, touching his shoulder gently, maybe as a reminder to be calm. Lance just wipes carefully at Theresa’s face.

The restaurant door opens with a jingle, and Dr. Nemman’s familiar, aggravating voice sounds out. “Let’s go home, Theresa,” he says, shoving them both out of the way to get to his daughter. Lance twitches with the urge to smack him, but Keith grabs onto his arm, muttering, “Let it go,” into his ear. Out loud to Nemman, he says, “I don’t think she wants to leave.”

“I don’t care what you think,” Nemman snaps. “She’s sick.”

“Your father wants to take you home,” another man says, and Lance realizes that the sheriff from the woods is there, too. “We’ll get you all cleaned up.”

“I’ll take you somewhere safe, Theresa,” the doctor says soothingly, brushing her hair back. Theresa looks terrified and catches Lance’s eye. Lance wants nothing more than to help her right now. “Detective Miles and I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

Oh. The sheriff is apparently a detective. Then his name dawns on Lance, and he stares hard at the detective. “You’re Billy Miles’ father?” Behind him, Keith sucks in a low breath, just as shocked.

The detective looks at them with disinterest. “That’s right,” he says lowly, tone dangerous. “And you stay away from my boy.”

During their exchange, Nemman had herded Theresa outside and into the car, and Lance trails after them with Keith, watching as they drive off. “Gotta love this place,” Keith says, voice dripping with contempt. “Every damn day is like Halloween.”

“I like Halloween,” Lance says, offended, then shakes his head and gets back on track. “They know, Keith. They know who’s responsible for the murders, and they said nothing.”

“They know something,” Keith agrees. “Just not necessarily that.”

“Nemman’s been hiding medical evidence since the start of this whole thing,” Lance argues, starting to walk away, though continuing his rant. “He lied on the autopsy reports, and now we’ve found out about the detective! Who else would have reason to trash everything – our lab, our rooms?” He stops and whirls around to face Keith, who’s watching him, confused.

“Why would they destroy evidence? What would they want with the body?”

Lance opens his mouth to answer and then pauses. He’s… not sure. “I don’t know,” he mutters, upset. “I… ugh.”

“Makes you wonder what’s in the other graves,” Keith adds, casually, and Lance raises his gaze back to Keith, squinting at him. Keith grins. It looks maniacal, and yet still cute. Lance sighs heavily. Fucking Mullet and his stupid smile.

“I guess we’re going grave-digging,” Lance says, and Keith laughs.

“Illegal grave-digging,” he clarifies, and Lance pushes his shoulder.

“Let’s go, then.”

-

When they reach the graveyard, though, they discover that the graves of the other victims are empty. Lance hates this case more and more with every passing minute.

“They’re empty,” Keith says, dumbfounded, and Lance kicks at the ground in anger.

“What the hell is going on here? I am so sick of this fucking town, what the fuck!”

Suddenly Keith is turning to him and grabbing his shoulders. Lance’s anger dissipates and he stares at Keith, not sure what’s gotten into him. “Uh, you okay, buddy?”

“I think I know who did it,” he breathes, and Lance’s jaw drops. “I think I know who killed Karen Swenson.”

“Who?” Lance chokes out, grabbing Keith’s arms. “Keith, who killed her? The detective? The doctor?”

Keith shakes his head. He looks calm, certain. “The detective’s son. Billy Miles.”

Lance releases his grip on Keith and drags his hand down his face. He can’t be serious. Keith has to be joking. “The boy in the hospital?” he cries. “The one who hasn’t fucking moved in years?”

Keith nods once.

Lance groans and yanks on his hair, tempted to rip the strands out, though he’s not entirely sure why. It’s probably the stress. “You honestly believe that that boy killed people, that he came out here and dug up these graves?”

“Peggy O’Dell was in a wheelchair but she ran in front of that car and got hit,” Keith shoots back, and Lance vaguely recalls the officers at her crime scene mentioning that, which- okay. That was weird. But still. “Look, I’m not making this up and I’m not crazy! It all fits the profile of an alien abduction.”

“This fits the profile?” Lance says, scoffing, and Keith nods frantically.

“Peggy O’Dell was killed around nine-o-clock – right around the time we lost nine minutes. I think something happened during those nine minutes! I think time, as we know it, just… stopped, and something took control over it.”

Lance stares at him for a minute, then drops his gaze, laughing in disbelief.

“You think I’m crazy.” Lance looks back up to see Keith smiling grimly, and he sighs.

Keith shakes his head. “Great.” He starts to turn away and Lance grabs his wrist, saying, “Keith, wait–” before pausing, suddenly thinking back to Peggy’s crime scene.

“What?” Keith says, and Lance looks at him, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Peggy’s watch was stopped a few minutes after nine…”

“That’s the reason the kids come to the forest,” Keith exclaims, shrugging Lance off so he can start pacing. Lance watches him, mind whirling. “The forest, it- it controls them, summons them there! And the marks, they’re- they’re from some kind of test, maybe, that was done on them, and that maybe causes some sort of genetic mutation, which would explain the body that we dug up!”

“And the forest… summons Theresa Nemman into the woods tonight,” Lance finishes, the horrifying realization dawning on him. _Oh my god._

“Yes!” Keith shouts, eyes wild. “But it was Billy Miles who took her there. Summoned by some- some alien impulse.”

Lance starts laughing, nearly hysterical. “Oh my god,” he manages between giggles, horrified and relieved and the furthest from feeling sane he’s ever been. “It’s- it’s crazy, but…”

It makes some sort of insane sense. They’ve solved the case.

Keith grins at him and grabs his hand, tugging him towards the car. Lance shakes his head the whole way down, fighting back his wild laughter. He barely registers Keith’s warm hand in his, and when he finally does, his laughter fades and he swallows, nervously. “Where- where are we going?”

“To pay a visit to Billy Miles.”

-

They don’t actually go to the hospital until the next morning. They ended up falling asleep in Keith’s bed together, and when Lance woke up to find himself curled around Keith, he almost fell off onto the floor. He managed to extract himself carefully, face flaming, and he got ready for the hospital in record time. He was recovered by the time Keith woke up and at his questioning, sleepy glance, Lance just shakes his head and mutters, “Let’s go see Billy Miles.”

Now they stand by his bedside with his nurse, Lance checking him over. Behind him, the nurse is talking to Keith.

“The world could be ending, and he won’t move at all. It just won’t happen. If he even blinks, I know about instantly. That’s how rare movement is for him.”

“When you last saw him, did you notice anything unusual?” Keith asks, and the nurse doesn’t answer. Lance casts her a look before focusing on Billy again. He makes absolutely no sign of moving. “Do you remember what you were doing around nine last night?” Keith asks after another minute of silence, and the nurse hums thoughtfully.

“Probably… watching television.”

“Do you remember what you were watching?”

Lance walks around to the end of the bed, partially focused on Keith’s conversation with the nurse but mostly focused on examining Billy. He lifts the bed sheets up and kneels down to check Billy’s feet, lips pursed thoughtfully. If Billy really did bring Peggy out into the woods, there’d be evidence, right? Dirt or mud on him, maybe. And, yep, there seems to be something interesting on Billy. Lance shakes his head, amazed or horrified, he can’t tell. Maybe both.

“Uh, sir?” the nurse says; Lance ignores her in favor of Keith and looks up at him, gesturing towards Billy.

“Look, Keith.”

Keith walks over and crouches next to him while he scrapes some of the dirt off of Billy; then they’re leaving, bidding the nurse goodbye.

Once they’re in the hall, Lance lets himself start panic-ranting to Keith, who just listens while walking next to him, practically glued to his side. “That- that kid may have killed Peggy O’Dell,” he says, eyes wide as he stares ahead of him at nothing in particular. “I- I can’t believe this!”

“Lance–”

“It’s crazy!” he interrupts, staring at Keith incredulously. “He was in the woods!”

“You’re sure?” Keith asks carefully, and Lance realizes, almost laughing, that their roles have suddenly reversed- now Keith is looking at Lance like he’s crazy and Lance is the one ranting about the impossible. What the fuck.

He holds up the bag of powder and dirt he got off of Billy. “This is the same stuff from the woods,” he says, waving the bag in Keith’s face.

Keith takes the bag and looks at it closely. “Okay. We should run a test on it to see–”

“We lost the other sample in the fire,” Lance says, gripping his hair tightly. He’s never been this stressed before in his life, what the _fuck_ , stupid Mullet and his stupid X-Files. _Fuck_. “There’s no point; besides, I know this is the same stuff.”

“Okay. I just want you to understand what you’re saying,” Keith says, and Lance throws his hands in the air in exasperation before pointing an accusing finger at Keith.

“You said it yourself, though–”

“Yeah,” Keith agrees, pushing Lance’s hand down. Lance crosses his arms and glares at Keith, who looks infuriatingly calm. “But you’re the one doing the report. What you’re saying is what you have to put in said report.”

The words slam into Lance like a ton of bricks and his arms fall limply to his sides. He’s right, dammit. Maybe Lance believes that Billy Miles is the culprit, already, but he can’t put that down officially unless he’s absolutely certain. It sounds ridiculous to anyone not working on the case. He sighs and rubs his eyes, suddenly exhausted. This case is going to be the death of him, he swears. “You’re right. Okay. We’ll take another sample from the forest, and run a comparison before we do anything. Okay.”

Keith nods. “Okay. Let’s go.”

-

The first thing Lance spots as they pull up to the forest is another car, and he frowns. “The detective’s here,” he warns as they climb out.

Keith shines his flashlight on the car and shrugs. “He’s out there somewhere, then,” he says, and then a scream rips through the trees. They barely exchange a look of horror before they’re taking off in its direction.

Keith ends up a few feet ahead of him as they tear through the trees, and Lance is picking up speed, about the gain on his partner, just a foot or so away, and then–

Something cracks against Lance’s head and he collapses, spots dancing in his vision. He groans, breathing becoming heavy, and he barely registers the man standing in front of him.

“I told you to stay out,” the detective says flatly. Lance groans again and tries to sit up. It’s strangely difficult to do so. He’s finally able to look up enough to see the detective running off in Keith’s direction. The sight’s enough to force Lance to his feet, and he starts stumbling after them, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it.

The pounding pain in his head makes it hard for him to judge his direction and he pauses to take a breather. Another scream sounds out and he jerks his head up, hissing at the shot of pain the movement causes. He starts half-jogging, half-walking in its direction.

He loses his sense of direction after a few minutes and wonders if he’s walking in circles now when a shot rings out and he freezes. “Oh, god,” he whispers, and then takes off in that direction, head pain be damned. _Keith, oh god, please be okay._

Within minutes, he’s stumbling into an area just outside of a bright while light – the same light they’ve seen several times, now. He stares at it, squinting in the brightness, and thinks, What the actual fuck is happening. A loud whirring noise is filling the area, too, and Lance covers his ears and shuts his eyes until they’ve both faded. Then he slowly makes his way towards where the light just was.

He sees Keith first and chokes back a sob, throwing himself at his partner. Keith catches him and pulls him close, hugging him tightly as Lance wheezes, “Jesus, Kogane, I though you’d gotten yourself fucking shot, don’t ever do that again.”

“I’m okay, you’re okay, it’s all okay,” Keith whispers back, stroking his hair, and Lance burrows his face into Keith’s neck, breathing deeply. Then he pulls back enough to see the detective crouching beside Theresa Nemman, laying on the ground, and Billy Miles, not looking at all paralyzed, standing above them.

“Dad?” he croaks, and the detective sighs out, “Billy,” as he yanks his son into a hug. Lance, still clutching Keith, manages a smile. Then he hides his face in Keith’s shoulder again, not really in the mood for moving any time soon. Keith just holds on to him, as though he feels the same way.

-

A few days later, Lance is standing outside of an interrogation room at headquarters, listening while Billy is spoken to by one of their doctors. Keith’s in there, too. Lance hopes he’s feeling alright.

_“The light… it told me to gather my friends… to do tests on them,”_ Billy’s saying. Lance tries to focus on his words, but he’s still exhausted, and he keeps blinking, trying to stay awake. _“But the tests… didn’t work… they wanted everything destroyed… and I’m afraid… afraid they’re coming back…”_

His words are too much. Lance doesn’t want to think about the events that have gone down. Casting one more look at Keith through the interrogation room’s window, Lance leaves, hoping his head will eventually clear.

-

Lance sits across from Chief Iverson, just as he did only a week ago. The whole set-up gives him major deja vu.

Iverson folds his hands and stares at Lance carefully. Lance stares back, playing with his sleeve absently.

“What we’ve just witnessed… what we’ve read in your field reports… it seems incredibly impossible, you realize, yes?”

“Yes, sir,” Lance agrees, voice steady. “My reports are mostly subjective. I have yet to really come up with a conclusion, myself, based on what’s happened and what I’ve seen.”

“Or haven’t seen,” Iverson suggests, raising an eyebrow. “What about the time loss you mentioned? Did you actually experience it?” Lance clicks his tongue, mulling it over.

“I can’t give a complete answer, no, sir.”

Iverson looks unimpressed. Lance smiles, probably unconvincingly. “What can you fully answer, then, Agent McClain?” he asks. “I see no evidence that proves any of the events that you claim to have gone down.”

Lance shrugs, letting his gaze wonder. He wants to get out of here and never talk about this case again. “There were, of course, crimes committed,” he says, and Iverson sighs.

“Yes, but how do you prosecute a case like this? I mean, a testimony given under hypnosis by a boy who claims to have been following orders given to him by some alien beings through an implant in his nose… you have no physical evidence.”

Lance is done. He stands up from his chair and pulls the implant from his pocket, holding it out.

“This is the device described to be an implant by Billy Miles,” he says. “I removed it from the exhumed body and kept it in my pocket.” He sets it down and Iverson picks it up, looking it over. “It’s the only thing not destroyed by the fire. I ran a lab test on it.” He lets a smug half-smile form on his lips. “The material could not be identified.”

Iverson looks up at that, his good eye narrowed. “Agent Kogane – what does he think?”

Lance’s smile grows slightly. “Agent Kogane believes we aren’t alone.”

The chief watches him for a moment longer before looking away, nodding tersely. “Thank you, Agent McClain. That’ll be all.”

Lance nods. “Goodbye, sir.”

-

That night, Lance can’t sleep. He’s lying in bed watching the hours tick by when the phone rings, disturbing the silence. Lance jumps and then grabs it, glad for the distraction. “Hello?” he says, voice hoarse.

_“Lance.”_

It’s Keith. Lance sits up, surprised. Of all the people in the world, Keith was the last person Lance expected to call him.

Or, well, maybe a month ago, he would’ve been. But now… _“I can’t sleep,”_ Keith whispers after a moment. _“I talked to the D.A.’s office from the county in Oregon. There’s no case file on Billy Miles. The paperwork we filed… it’s all gone. We need to talk, Lance.”_

Lance lies still, trying to process everything Keith just said. The case file… gone? What the hell? He realizes belatedly that Keith’s waiting for a response, and he clears his throat, nodding even though Keith can’t see him. “Uh… yeah. Tomorrow, okay?”

_“…okay,”_ Keith says finally. Lance nods again.

“Okay.”

_“Good night, Lance,”_ Keith adds in a soft voice that makes Lance’s heart pound, and he swallows.

“Night, Mullet. And, uh, can I say something real quick?”

_“Uh, sure,”_ Keith says, sounding surprised. Lance takes a deep breath before he speaks, heart still pounding too hard.

“I was… pretty upset about being forced to work with you at first,” he admits, staring down at his bed sheets. Keith stays quiet. “But… after that case… we’re a good team, yeah?”

He can almost hear Keith smile over the phone. _“Yeah. We are.”_ Then he says, quietly, _“Good night, Lance. I’ll see you tomorrow,”_ and hangs up. Lance smiles and puts the phone up, stupidly happy.

He falls asleep with that soft voice replaying in his head.

-

“You look exhausted,” Pidge comments the next morning, and Lance waves her off, groaning.

“I am. I am _so_ fucking tired.”

When he keeps walking by their desks, Hunk reaches out and stops him, frowning. “Hey, where’re you going? You usually chill with us for a bit.”

“Oh.” Lance blinks and rubs his eyes. He’s so focused on the thought of talking to Keith that he actually forgot to talk to his friends. _Amazing,_ he thinks sarcastically, shaking his head. “Sorry, I’m… distracted.”

“By Keith?” Allura says slyly, and the blush that rises to Lance’s cheeks must confirm it, because she squeals. “Oh, Lance! That’s adorable!”

"Aw, buddy!" Hunk says far too loudly, ruffling Lance's hair. "See? I told you that you wouldn't hate him anymore! Man, we should've made a bet or something."

“Bye,” he mutters quickly, walking away and blushing harder when he hears his friends laughing behind him. _Assholes,_ he thinks, but it’s fond. Mostly.

“Bye, loverboy!” Hunk calls, and Lance throws him the finger without even turning.

-

Downstairs, he’s not as nervous as he was the first few times. He only hesitates a moment before walking into Keith’s office, where the man himself sits on his desk, flipping through some papers. He looks up as Lance enters and smiles shyly. Lance’s heart picks up speed and he smiles back.

“Sooo…” he drawls, putting his hands in his pockets. _Act casual, Lance._ “What about the case did you want to talk about?”

Keith slumps in his seat and Lance frowns at the slight disappointment in his eyes. “Right to the point, huh,” he mutters, then clears his throat. Lance’s eyes widen. Does he want to… talk about something else, too? “Well, uh–”

“Hey,” Lance interrupts, clearing his throat. Keith stops talking and stares at him, something hopeful lighting up in his eyes. “Do you… maybe wanna talk over lunch? About other things, too, not just the case?” he says, hopeful, too, and Keith grins widely, face pinkening. Lance likes that look on him, actually.

“Yeah,” he says, and Lance grins back, walking forward to take Keith’s hand in his.

“It’s a date, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> I realized while posting this that this is the first real non-canon-divergent au I've ever written and finished for klance,,, wild
> 
> anyway yeah lmao, there's that! idk I'm like kinda proud of this? but also eh? hhh idk I guess I like it overall and I hope anyone reading this does too lmao
> 
> sooo yeah there's that! I'm tired lmao, I hope this was enjoyable and I hope you have a good day/night! <3


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